


We're Going Down Swinging

by turps



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 06:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21369721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: Written for the prompt.prompt 4: Frank/Gerard, so can we kill him now?
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Comments: 13
Kudos: 54
Collections: No Tags Fall 2019





	We're Going Down Swinging

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks go to themoononastick, who as always went above and beyond to beta this in the time frame.

It’s cold outside, really fucking cold.

If Frank was sensible he’d give up and go back to the base. Already his hands are frozen and his cheeks are burning where they’re being stung by the icy wind. As for his feet. Frank lost feeling in them almost an hour ago. For all he knows he could be standing on bloody stumps, his actual feet having snapped off without him knowing.

Considering, Frank tugs at his hat, jostling the earpiece hooked behind his ear as he says quietly, “Hey, Gee. Bloody stumps, walkable or not, and if so, how far?”

“Depends if you mean leg or arm stumps.” Gerard’s response is clear, as if he’s only feet away instead of huddled on a fire escape nearly two blocks away. “And if they’re actively bleeding. If so, not far because you’d be leaving a trail.”

“Leg stumps, obviously.” There’s no way Gerard can actually see him, but Frank rolls his eyes regardless, because honestly, who would walk on their hands? “And no bleeding. Well, maybe some bloodprints from the end of the stumps.”

There’s a long silence and Frank cups his hands in front of his mouth, blowing out a warm breath that does nothing to thaw his cold fingers as he waits for Gerard to answer.

“A few blocks,” Gerard says finally, sounding sure, and Frank can easily imagine him in his roost, eyes gleaming, tucked into the oversized coat he refuses to give up. “After that the bones would start to degrade. You’d end up having to crawl.”

“And be caught and eaten in minutes.” Frank looks down, reassuring himself his feet are actually there. “Why are we here anyway?”

It’s a rhetorical question, Frank knows why they’re here, but that doesn’t mean he can’t complain about it, even if it was actually his idea. Despite that, Gerard gives a serious answer, just like Frank knew he would.

“Because there’s been sightings of a scout unit, if we cut it down….”

“I know, I know, it’ll help keep our cover,” Frank says, stamping his feet as he tucks his hands under his armpits. “I need gloves. Just once those fucking units need to scout in the day.”

“You’ve got gloves, you just keep forgetting them, and they wouldn’t be good scouts if they did that,” Gerard says, and then Frank hears an intake of breath, a clang, then the sound of Gerard moving.

“Are you okay?” The cold forgotten, Frank straightens, looking in Gerard’s direction. Not that anything has changed in the last hour, just the same deserted street and line of ransacked stores, the boards that are nailed over the windows charred and long broken. “Gerard?”

“I’m okay.” Gerard’s voice is low, barely audible over the comm and Frank’s nerves are screaming, every muscle tense with the urge to run. “I just…. There. The _Starbucks_ next to the intersection.”

Frank imagines the location -- twisted metal and rubble, one of the stores that’s completely open to the elements, the counter scorched and warped in places. They’d holed up there back in the day, before the walls fell and the snow started in earnest.

“Is it a scout unit?” Frank’s already moving, his breath puffs of white and his chest burning with each icy inhale. “Are you armed and ready?”

“Armed and ready, but…” Again, Gerard trails off and Frank speeds up, determined that next watch they won’t split up, because this is _stupid_. “Fuck! Mikey!”

Frank starts to run. 

Feet pounding against the road, Frank jumps over scarred trenches and craters, bypassing the remains of a cab that’s more blackened than yellow. His heart jumping, when, in the distance, there’s a brief flash of red, one that comes along with a familiar whine.

“Gerard? Gee!” Frank’s yelling now, running as fast as he can. “Is that a swarm unit? Gerard?”

“I’m okay.” Gerard’s response is clipped and he’s breathing hard as he adds, “Not a unit. It’s Mikey and Pete, they’re being chased. Pete just fired.”

It’s impossible for Frank to run any faster, but he tries anyway, pulling his gun out of his pocket as he does. Without thought he thumbs the controls, setting to kill, because Mikey and Pete weren’t supposed to be anywhere close tonight, and if they are, it can’t mean anything good. 

“They should be coming your way,” Gerard says and Frank skids to a stop, panting as he looks for cover. Not that there’s much choice. By now this area has been picked clean of anything usable, leaving behind the empty shells of buildings and mounds of snow that only keep growing. His options limited, Frank throws himself behind the nearest snowbank, the knees of his pants soaking up water as he stills, fighting for calm.

A deep breath, two, and Frank holds up his gun, lining up his shot as he listens to the sound of someone running Or two someones, something Frank quickly sees when Mikey and Pete run into view.

They’re both clutching bags, and _laughing_, and if it wasn’t for the kill setting Frank would shoot either or both of them for looking so carefree when it feels like his heart is lodged in his throat.

“Heads up, Frank, it’s behind us,” Pete yells, far too cheerful considering the creature that’s steadily gaining. Thankfully it’s only one of the scouts, small and compact, made for endurance and not wholescale destruction. But, that does mean its fast and Frank doesn’t think twice before firing.

And gulps, swallowing hard when the creature explodes in a wet spray of goo.

“Nice shot.” Pete’s still smiling, bent over, his hands on his knees, looking far too cheerful as something black and thick slides down his back. “That was nearly too close.”

“Nearly too close?” His gun in safety mode, Frank has to resist the urge to throw it at Pete, or turn it to stun and shoot him just because. “It would have caught you in minutes. You’d have been creature chow.”

“Less than a minute really, we’ve been running a while,” Mikey says, casual, as if he’s not talking about his own gory limb rendered death. “But I knew you or Gee would shoot it.”

“And what if we hadn’t? What if we’d gone back? Or for a piss?” It’s Gerard who’s asking the questions, his coat and multiple layers doing nothing to disguise just how jumpy he is as he runs up and grabs Mikey, pulling him into a tight hug. “If you ever do that again I’ll get Frank to shoot you.”

“Sure, get me to shoot him,” Frank grumbles, his foot crunching on splinters of shell as he steps to the side to avoid the slow-spreading goo from the creature. “Then you’ll make me feel guilty forever. How about I shoot Pete instead?”

“I guess,” Gerard allows, finally letting go of Mikey so he can emerge from where he’s been engulfed in the depths of Gerard’s coat. “He can be annoying, and if you keep it on stun….”

“You love me really.” Pete grins, shrugging aside the comments as he pushes his hands deep into the pocket of his hoodie, looking relaxed despite the fact he has to be freezing. “In fact, I’m your favourite, your best guy and you’d miss me if I wasn’t here.”

“Like a hole in my head,” Frank says, sighing as he gives a last pointed wave of his gun in Pete’s direction. “Are you sure you’d want it on stun?” 

“Tempting.” Gerard looks directly at Pete, as if actually pondering the question, and Frank loves that. That in the midst of a horrible situation, with alien goo at their feet and the stench of burnt flesh in the air, they can still take the time for a joke, a moment of levity before they go back to the relentless battle to keep living. “But no, it would make Mikey sad.”

“It would make him horribly sad,” Pete says, all toothy grin and manic energy as he smacks a kiss against the side of Mikey’s cheek. “Because he loves me, you all love me. I’ve already told you that.”

Frank stares. At the way Pete keeps grinning, the way Mikey dips his head slightly, the slightest turn of his mouth but obviously pleased, how that smile widens when Pete takes a sudden step forward and kisses Frank’s cheek too, leaving a wet spot that instantly freezes.

Reminding himself he actually does like Pete, at least, mostly, Frank’s finger twitches on the trigger as he looks at Gerard and says, “Can we kill him now?”

“Mikey. Happy.” Gerard waves his hands, snowflakes settling on the exposed skin of his wrists as he reduces Mikey and Pete’s relationship to something that, apparently, can be described with sketched air lines alone. “And, we do actually need him.”

“I suppose.” Affecting reluctance, Frank shoves his gun back in his pocket and attempts to bring attention back to the immediate situation. “But, Pete’s imminent death aside, what are you both doing here?”

Instantly Pete’s smile fades, and he snaps from someone carefree to the man who’s spent the last year acquiring supplies and developing contacts in any way possible, all the while immersing himself in a system where the laws have irrevocably broken down. 

“I got word of some tradable med supplies,” Pete says, pulling one of his hands out of his hoodie pocket so he can pat the bag he’s got looped over his chest. “And about someone living over on Fifth. We were heading there when we bumped into that thing.”

On the last words, Pete toes at the creature, grimacing at the resulting goo that coats the front of his sneaker. Frank would laugh, because really, what was Pete thinking? But at the same time, he’s distracted by the thoughts of Fifth: because, in terms of no-go areas, that’s one of the worst.

“We weren’t going there on our own,” Mikey says, cutting off Gerard before he can speak. “We were coming to find you, just, ran into that first.”

Gerard runs his hands through his hair, leaving it tangled, settling into semi-frozen clumps as the snow starts to fall in earnest. “So, you’re telling us that after being chased by a scout for who knows how many blocks you want to infiltrate a no-go area to find someone who may or may not be dead by now?”

“Sources say he was alive this morning,” Mikey says, his hand resting over his pants pocket and his closely guarded phone. “But yeah, that’s what we’re saying.”

“Okay then.” Frank pulls in a deep breath and looks over at Gerard, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Guess we’d better get going then. But if my feet fall off, I’m blaming you.”

“You could walk on the stumps,” Mikey says, pulling his woolen hat lower and hunching in on himself, almost disappearing into his coat as he starts walking. “For a few blocks at least, then your bones would start to break down.”

“See, that’s what I’m saying,” Gerard exclaims, grin wide and bright as he bumps Frank’s shoulder with his own. “It’s all about bone degradation.”

And really, what can Frank say in response?

The answer is, nothing, and all he can do is shake his head slightly, taking a moment to just breathe and enjoy being with these people before they head into danger again.

~*~*~*~

“You know, this is ridiculous?” Despite the inevitability of them going in, Frank still has to point out that fact. Hidden behind a snowdrift, they’re looking at the ruins of Fifth, once a thriving shopping district, but now nothing more than broken buildings that are almost hidden behind thick layers of ice.

Which would be bad enough, but if Frank turns his head slightly he can see the portal that takes up almost the whole width of the road. Unlike the surrounding destruction, the portal is all crisp lines and strength, dominating the area as the gas inside of the doorway swirls and spits out bursts of icy blue vapour -- and on random occasions, more creatures.

More than anything, Frank hopes that won’t happen tonight, because if it does, it’s an almost unavoidable game over.

“Sources say he’s hiding in _Time Warp Comics_,” Mikey says, going up on his tiptoes as he looks over the drift. “It’s not far from here, and a good location.”

“If you don’t count the alien portal on the doorstep,” Frank says, but he knows what Mikey means. While the comic shop itself won’t have anything worth scavenging, it’s close enough to places that possibly will, and more importantly, set back slightly from the main street. Of course, none of that matters when, to get there, they’ll have to avoid both swarm units and scouts.

“I didn’t pick up my last order from there. You know, before.” Gerard mimics Mikey’s stance, both of them stretching up and checking for creatures. “Maybe it’s still there?”

“If we survive without our legs being ripped off, I’ll look for you,” Frank says, and makes a mental note to do so. Not that he expects the comics to be there, but there’s always a chance. And it’s those improbable chances and hopes that help Frank keep going.

“Thanks.” Gerard turns back to Frank and grins, reaching back so he can touch his hand. “And if you can find me some good coffee….”

Frank grins back, twisting his hand so he can squeeze Gerard’s fingers. “You’d owe me big time and I won’t let you forget it.”

“I’ll find you a coffee, too, Mikey,” Pete says, and Frank would roll his eyes if it wasn’t for the fact Pete sounds so annoyingly earnest, and no doubt, will actually find some and share. “If we survive this it’s first on my list.”

“First should probably be getting the meds to the kids camp,” Mikey points out, but he still drops down onto flat feet, turning so he can wrap himself around Pete from behind and rest his head against Pete’s. “But, thank you.”

“If we’re all sure the shopping list is done: rescue,” Frank states, needing to get things going. Already it’s heading toward the new normal of daytime, where it’s just a bit lighter but not much. “If we’re going in there we need to do it before dawn.”

“Oh, we’re going in.” Pete pats his pants pocket where he keeps a small laser. It’s one Frank coverts, sleek and deadly in equal measures, and undoubtedly alien in origin, but Pete never lets it out of his sight. “At this point we need all the survivors we can find.”

“Though why he’s hiding in a no-go zone I don’t know.” Gerard looks confused, and Frank doesn’t blame him. Hiding out in a no-go makes no sense and he has to hope that they’re not risking their lives on a dangerous rumour.

“He might be from out of town and got stuck,” Mikey suggests, which is as good a suggestion as any. That or the guy is just cracked in the head.

“Whatever the reasons, we need to get in now.” His own gun clasped in his hand, Frank steps around the snowdrift, determined to take the lead. “There’s no sign of the creatures, so it’s now or never. Once we start running don’t stop. For anything.”

It’s the warning they always give, and one that undoubtedly will be ignored the first time any of them get into serious trouble. Thankfully, beyond a few close calls, that hasn’t happened yet, and Frank quickly crosses himself as he steps into the open and then runs.

Almost instantly there’s the sound of something whirring and the skitter of feet in the distance, and Frank hates the creatures. How they’re always there, watching, lurking and waiting to attack. They’re giant killer bugs that just won’t quit, and anger fuels Frank’s running as he speeds along the street, skidding on patches of ice and ready to shoot at a moment’s notice.

“Take the next corner,” Gerard yells, and Frank glances back, seeing Gerard running at full speed, his coat flapping behind him as Pete grabs Mikey’s hand and pulls, urging him on faster.

“On it,” Frank yells back, hitting the ground as his foot goes out under him as he slips on the edge of a snowbank, ice cutting his palm as he pushes himself back to his feet, panting for breath as he makes a sharp turn and sees the remains of the comic storefront, its sign lasered in half and window completely shattered. 

“Get in!” Gerard’s right behind Frank, pushing him forward as they tumble through the former window, their feet crunching on glass -- and find themselves confronted by a man, standing propped up against a wall, a gun held steady in his hand.

“Get in the back,” the man commands, indicating the doorway behind him. “I’ll follow.”

Frank eyes the dark space, briefly considering they could be running into a trap. But, as far as he knows there’s never been a creature and human alliance, and Frank doubts that’s about to change now. 

“Going,” Frank says, ducking to avoid a fallen beam as he runs further into the shop, looking back to ensure Gerard, Mikey and Pete have followed.

They have, and so has the man, who grimaces as he limps after Pete and points at a trapdoor. “Down there. Quick, before they see us.”

“A creepy cellar, wonderful,” Frank says under his breath, but he has to trust this man and he heads for the trapdoor, looking down into the darkness before quickly climbing down the amazingly intact ladder. 

The next few minutes aren’t fun. Frank having to bite back the urge to speak as they all crowd into a small space that’s been made even smaller by a tumbled down wall and smashed up shelving that’s been pushed to the side.

With the trapdoor shut, it’s dark apart from the light of a candle lit in the corner of the room, and Frank stands crowded against Gerard, watching the light of the flames dance over his face as they all listen and wait.

“They should be gone now, as long as we’re quiet they seem to forget about this place.” Finally the man speaks, then groans as he takes a jerky step back, his hand on his leg. “Sorry, I haven’t moved so fast in a while. I thought they’d finally found me.”

“Well, they haven’t, but we have.” Gerard smiles, wide and bright. “I’m Gerard, and this is my brother Mikey. The one next to me is Frank, and the guy over there is Pete.”

“Pete Wentz, rescuer extraordinaire,” Pete says with his own grin. “Nice to meet you. We’ve heard good things.”

“Yeah?” The man says, looking confused. “Ray, and what things?”

“That you’ve been keeping strays,” Pete says, and with that, unexpectedly pulls at a piece of broken shelving, making the whole jumbled mess swing to the side as he crouches and says brightly. “Hi.”

“The hell?” Frank stares, taking in the hidden space behind the shelves, one that contains a pitiful handful of supplies and at least four kids, from a baby cradled in a blanket to a group of toddlers, one of whom is clutching a blanket and sniffling back tears. 

Gun pointed at Pete, Ray pushes past him, putting himself bodily in front of the children. “Touch them and I’ll kill you.”

Pete sighs, looking mournfully at Mikey. “Why does everyone want to kill me? And we’re not the enemy here. We’ve come to help.”

“The last person to rob us said that too,” Ray says, biting back a groan as one of the toddlers flings herself forward and grabs hold of his leg. “He didn’t walk out of here alive.”

“Good,” Pete says, fierce as he waves at one of the kids. “But we don’t want to rob you. We’re honestly here to help.”

“We are,” Gerard puts in, stepping from foot to foot, as if unsure if he should approach the children or not. “I mean, we didn’t know they were here. At least, I didn’t, and Frank didn’t. I don’t know about Mikey, and if he did. he should have told us.”

“They both should,” Frank says, cutting in, because when he set out from base hours before no way did he expect his night to end up involving a group of kids and a baby. “But that doesn’t mean we’re here for your supplies. Pete’s an idiot, but he’s also right, we’re here to help.”

“How?” Ray asks, sounding suspicious, not that Frank can blame him. He wouldn’t trust a group of random strangers either. “We’re doing okay on our own.”

“And you’ll do even better with us and our people,” Gerard says, obviously feeling better about the situation as he urges Pete to stand and step to the side so Gerard can look at Ray. “We’ve got a place. Places. They’re not great but they’re as safe as we can make them. You’re welcome there. You all are.”

“Other kids?” Ray asks, his hand on the head of the little girl who’s stopped crying as she stares up at Gerard. “They need other kids, and food.”

“We’ve got both,” Pete says, all business now as he looks Ray directly in the eye. ”Gerard’s right, where we live isn’t the best, but it’s the best that’s out there. It’s your choice, but if you want, we can take you there now.”

“You’re aware I’ve got a busted leg,” Ray says, but is obviously wavering as the children cluster around him. “I can’t run very fast.”

“Neither can I,” Mikey says, making faces at a small boy who’s peering from behind Ray’s legs. “But I can shoot fast, and so can the others. We’ll get you all there.”

Which, as promises go probably isn’t the best thing to say, but Frank finds himself nodding, agreeing with Mikey. “We will. That is, if you want to go.”

Ray looks around. At the small pile of blankets on the floor and the meagre amount of food, tins with torn labels and a few bottles of water. And also, comic books, countless comic books, spread on the floor and piled up into a makeshift table. It takes a while, but eventually, he says, “I think maybe it’s time to go.”

“Good.” Gerard clasps Ray’s shoulder, squeezing before looking down at the children. “Hi, I’m Gerard and I’m going to take you somewhere else. We all are.”

One of the little girls nods, serious as she holds up her hand and says, “I’m Abby.”

And if Frank’s heart wasn’t already melting this simple act of trust would finish it off. Unable to help it, he smiles fondly at Gerard, brushing their arms together when Frank steps past and bends, picking up both baby and blanket.

“I’ll take this little one,” Frank says, and then freezes, half crouched over when he sees a packet almost completely hidden under the broken shelving. It’s see-through, containing a selection of comics, but most importantly, on the front is a printed label shpwing Gerard’s name.

Barely able to believe it, Frank grabs the packet and pulls, his eyes stinging with tears as he stands with the baby cradled in one arm and holding the comics in the other.

And is reminded yet again, that it’s these improbable, impossible hopes that keep them all going.


End file.
